Unbreakable
by kaytee412
Summary: Blaine and Kurt find themselves kidnapped for more than just ransom.


**Title:** Unbreakable**  
>Rating:<strong> R**  
><strong>**  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> **Angst, underage noncon (off page), slight reference to underage drinking, kidnapping, adult language, slight homophobic elements. Do NOT read if you have triggers.**  
>Spoilers:<strong> Anything up to but not including 2x17 is fair game.**  
><strong>**Summary:** Blaine and Kurt find themselves kidnapped for more than just ransom.**  
>AN: **This is my first Glee fanfic, and I'm excited to share it with you.

* * *

><p>"Kurt. Look at me."<p>

Kurt's eyes snapped open, blue eyes meeting hazel as he watched Blaine struggle against the two men holding him. Kurt couldn't believe how well Blaine could maintain his composure at a time like this.

Blaine's eyes were desperate, pleading. "It'll be all right, Kurt. I promise."

Kurt stood up as he watched Blaine being dragged through the door. He wanted to run after him, to kick and scream and tear his way to Blaine's side, but the gun trained on his head kept him still.

The door slammed shut, a resounding echo reminding Kurt of the barrier between him and the one man he had ever truly loved.

Tears started trailing down his face, but Kurt wiped them away with a shaky hand. He would be okay. Blaine would be okay.

"Don't worry; they're just going to have some fun. Your friend won't die or anything. Yet."

Kurt heard the gunman chuckle, and he looked up to see a grin spreading on his captor's face.

* * *

><p><em>One Day Earlier<em>

* * *

><p>Kurt walked hand-in-hand down the street with Blaine, his scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. Blaine carried his medium drip as they battled the icy December wind.<p>

"We should really consider going to college down south," Kurt commented, pulling his coat firmly around him. The wind picked up at once, a strong gust making the pair falter momentarily. "I knew I shouldn't have taken the time to style my hair today."

He heard Blaine's laughter next to him. "I promise this is the last stop, Kurt."

Kurt huffed, kicking at the snow in front of him. "Yeah, that's what you said about three errands ago."

"I didn't know the weather would get worse!" Blaine defended, and Kurt knew if he braved the wind to look up, Blaine would be pouting. "But I really promise this time. I just need to deposit this check before the bank closes."

"Can't you wait until Monday?" Kurt whined. He knew he was being selfish, but frigid weather made him more irritable than usual.

"Kurt, I need this check so I can finish my Christmas shopping this weekend. We're almost there, then we can go back to my place and sit by the fire until you're warm."

"I know something that would get us warm," Kurt mumbled suggestively into Blaine's ear.

Blaine elbowed him lightly as they reached the entrance of the bank. Blaine held the door open for Kurt and found the teller.

Kurt rubbed some warmth back into his hands as he listened to Blaine requesting his deposit. He hoped this stop wouldn't take too long, although the reprieve from the brutal wind was welcome.

The woman behind the counter smiled at the pair of them, her lipstick fading slightly. "4:56. You just made it hon, we close at 5:00."

Kurt rolled his eyes as Blaine flashed a charming smile. "It's my lucky day."

A man in a suit waved goodbye to the teller as he walked to the door. "Goodnight, Margaret."

"See ya, John," the blonde – Margaret – waved from behind her computer.

Three darkly dressed men entered the bank as John walked out, and he held the door for them. "You guys are lucky! Two more minutes and we'd be closed!"

A tall, burly man with closely cropped red hair smiled. "We have good timing."

As John left, the mend walked up to the counter. Margaret held out a receipt to Blaine. "Is there anything else I can do for you today, Mr. Anderson?"

"No, thank you. I wouldn't want to hold you past closing." Blaine threw the receipt in his pocket and moved towards the exit.

Kurt shoved his hands in his pockets, ready to step out into the cold once more. Blaine excused himself politely to the other men, yet as he went to step around them, the red-haired man – who was a good six inches taller than Blaine – shoved him backwards.

Not expecting the action, Blaine stumbled, trying unsuccessfully to steady himself before hitting the floor. He let out a hiss as his left shoulder took the brunt of the impact and his scalding coffee spilled over his hand.

Stunned, Kurt stood immobile for a moment, before his shock was replaced by anger. He took a protective stance in front of Blaine, his finger pointed out toward the group. "What it _wrong _with you?" he accused, voice rising. He opened his mouth to continue until the blond and dark haired men pulled guns from underneath their coats. Kurt froze, eyes widening in horror as Margaret screamed from behind him.

"Get on the ground like your pretty boyfriend, faggot," the red-headed man demanded, and Kurt immediately dropped; he was glad he didn't have to stand anymore, unable to trust his unsteady legs.

The man motioned toward his darker haired partner. "Rich, keep an eye on these two. Dax, take their wallets and cell phones, then follow me."

"Sure thing, Bill." Rich pointed his gun at Kurt and Blaine as the teenagers surrendered their wallets and cell phones. Dax pushed his longer, sandy hair out of his face as he stole their belongings and followed Bill.

Kurt sat up against the counter, knees drawn to his chest as he tried to comprehend the situation. He didn't know what to do. This just couldn't be happening. It _couldn't_. Things like this didn't happen to him. Not to him. Not in Westerville. These things happened on the news – to _other people _– while he muttered condolences, or phrases like, "that's so sad." This could not be happening to them. Them. _Blaine_.

Kurt turned toward Blaine, guilt washing over him as he realized he had forgotten about Blaine. The raven-haired boy seemed to be faring well, however; he cradled his red, slightly swollen hand near his chest as he watched Kurt.

Blaine moved his uninjured hand to grasp Kurt's as Margaret's crying became louder. Kurt knew Blaine was trying to provide comfort, and they watched as Bill and Dax filled sacks with money.

Bill checked his watch. "We've been here eight minutes. The cops will be here soon. Hold these, Dax." Bill shoved the bags of cash at the blond, taking a few steps toward the sobbing bank teller. "Sorry Margaret."

Kurt gasped as he heard the gunshot behind him, and Blaine's hand instantly tightened around his own. The crying had stopped, and Kurt knew, no matter how hard he tried to deny it, that Margaret was dead.

Dax pulled Bill aside, apparently trying to have a private conversation, and Kurt turned frantically to Blaine. "Blaine." Kurt's whispering was urgent, his eyes wide with fear. "Blaine, I love you so much. I haven't said it enough, and I'm sorry, I just -"

"Hey," Blaine soothed voice low. He rubbed his thumb along the back of Kurt's hand. "It's going to be fine. I'm right here, and I love you too. We're going to get through this."

"Get up." Kurt stared at Bill , whose gun was pointed at his head. Kurt's mouth felt dry and he couldn't make his legs work, even though his mind screamed for him to stand.

Bill let out an annoyed breath and grabbed Kurt firmly by the arm, hauling him up as Rich did the same to Blaine.

"We're going on a field trip," Dax announced, and Kurt shuddered at the manic look in his eyes.

The three men ushered Kurt and Blaine through the back door. Kurt tried to keep an eye on Blaine, but Rich and Dax blocked his view. The wind was still raging, but Kurt could barely feel it anymore. The sun was almost completely set by the time they reached a large van around the block.

Kurt watched as Rich opened the back doors of the van and forced Blaine inside. He felt Bill push him forward and Kurt climbed into the van as well. It was dusty and dark – the partition solid between the front of the van and the back. Kurt pushed himself back until he felt the wall behind him, wanting to be as far away from their captors as possible. He felt Blaine's deep breathing next to him, and Kurt tried to mimic it, lengthening his short bursts of breath. Blaine once again took hold of his hand.

"Enjoy the ride, kids," Dax grinned, and the doors of the van shut, immersing them in darkness. Kurt could hear the back doors being locked and then felt the van dip as he guessed the men entered the vehicle.

Kurt and Blaine sat in silence as the van started to move. Kurt chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying to push back the feeling of dread.

"I read somewhere that when you enter the vehicle of your assailant, your chances of survival drop by sixty percent," Kurt muttered, more to himself than to Blaine.

"Kurt."

Kurt turned to Blaine, swallowing the nausea that threatened to overtake him. He could barely make out Blaine's outline in the dark, but it was enough.

"Kurt, we're going to be okay. I don't know how we're going to make it through this, but we will. I will fight to keep you safe." The determination and strength Kurt heard in Blaine's voice instantly decreased his anxiety, if only by a fraction. He sighed, moving in closer to Blaine and resting his head on Blaine's shoulder. He didn't know how Blaine could be so calm about their situation, but Kurt had always admired Blaine's level-headedness. He wasn't sure if he could make it through this predicament without it.

"I love you," Kurt whispered.

Blaine pressed a kiss on Kurt's temple. "I love you, too."

* * *

><p>Blaine was terrified.<p>

He had never even dreamed of being in a situation like this, and he had no idea on how to properly handle himself. However, he had seen Kurt openly freaking out since the moment the guns were drawn; it seemed a pretty natural decision, then, to be strong for Kurt.

After all, with all the weight Kurt had to bear recently – his dad's heart attack, Karofsky, changing schools – Blaine knew Kurt didn't need this. Hell, nobody _needed _this, but Kurt didn't deserve it. So Blaine had decided then and there that he would put on the façade of staying strong. Maybe if he played the part well enough, he might actually stop panicking inside.

Blaine had already checked the doors to the van; he knew it would end up fruitless, but his survival instincts told him to check anyway. He wasn't wearing a watch either, but he was certain they had been traveling for over an hour.

"We're probably well outside of Westerville by now," he sighed, crossing his arms and sitting beside Kurt.

Kurt sat silent beside him, tapping his fingers along his knee. Blaine was thankful Kurt seemed to be calming down.

"How's your hand?"

Blaine raised his eyebrows in surprise, giving Kurt an incredulous look. "Honestly Kurt, I don't know how I deserve you." He looked down at his hand; in the dark he couldn't tell much, but he could feel the swelling had gone down. "It's fine. It doesn't really hurt much anyway, but thank you."

Kurt let out a soft chuckle. "You were the one who was injured here, Blaine," he stated, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

Blaine shook his head, glad that Kurt couldn't see him nervously wringing his hands in the dark. He silently hoped that his minor burn was the only injury to come out of their ordeal, but somehow he doubted that.

The van hit uneven road, and Blaine threw an arm out to stop himself from falling over. Kurt straightened as they slowed down. "We must be stopping."

Blaine licked his lips as the van came to a halt. _For Kurt_, he repeated inwardly, _keep strong for Kurt_. Blaine took Kurt's hand for what seemed to be the hundredth time; he needed the contact just as much as he wanted to comfort Kurt. They listened as the van stopped, and soon after the back doors were opened.

"Let's go," Bill demanded, and Blaine and Kurt obeyed. Blaine tried to gather as much information about their surroundings as possible, but couldn't discover much. They seemed to be in the middle of the woods, one winding, worn down path leading up to a small cabin of sorts.

Blaine's observing was cut short as he felt cold steel against the back of his neck. "Walk." He saw Kurt receiving the same treatment as they made their way to the building. Once inside, the pair was immediately lead to the unfinished basement, bare of most heat and furnishings.

"Turn around," Rich ordered. "Take off your coats and give up anything left in your pockets."

They quickly obliged, passing over their coats, keys, and spare change. Now clad in only jeans and a t-shirt, Blaine felt the cool air much more acutely. He was sure Kurt's sweater didn't provide much protection either.

"Dax, pat them down, make sure they're not keeping anything else."

Dax, Blaine remembered, was the blond, slightly overweight one who gave him more of an anxious feeling than the others. When he was being frisked, Blaine discovered why. Dax made sure to rub himself against Blaine and linger when searching his groin area. Blaine took a sharp intake of breath, but otherwise gave no indication that anything was wrong. _For Kurt, for Kurt, for Kurt_, he repeated to himself. When his search was over, he watched Kurt get patted down. Thankfully, Dax didn't seem as interested in Kurt.

Bill gathered their belongings, smiling as he and his partners made their way toward the door. "Don't worry, kids. We'll be back soon enough."

And, just like that, they were alone again. Blaine stared at the door as if he were expecting them to return, or maybe the police to break it down.

"That's the only door in here," Kurt called, and Blaine jumped slightly. Kurt was already on the other side of the basement, searching for possibly exits. Blaine cursed – he should be helping. "There's a small doorway here, but all that's inside is a toilet and sink. There's not even an actual door."

Blaine spotted a small window near the top of the wall, where he could see grass forming, but it was much too small for a person to fit through. Searching the perimeter, he found that to be the only window in the room.

Kurt tried to main door, but it had been bolted from the outside. "Well, can't say we didn't try," Kurt laughed nervously.

Blaine felt his heart ache as he watched Kurt slide down against the wall, head in his hands. Blaine slowly lowered himself next to him, pulling Kurt against his chest. Kurt relaxed in the embraced, and Blaine gently wiped away the few tears that Kurt had let fall.

"I can't believe we're here right now," Kurt breathed, and Blaine felt goose bumps from Kurt's breath hot against his neck. "Why would they take _us_, Blaine? Why would this happen to us, what did we do wrong?"

Blaine felt guilt stab at him. _I made him go to the bank_, he thought bitterly. _We're here now because of me_. Blaine buried the thoughts, deciding that self-loathing wasn't going to help their situation.

"Kurt, I made you a promise," Blaine started, "that we would make it out of this. And I intend to keep that promise. We _will_ make it out of here, Kurt,"

"They said they're coming back, Blaine," Kurt countered, a harder edge to his voice. "They're probably going to hurt us. Or worse."

"Stop it." Blaine felt Kurt startle at his forceful tone. "I won't let them hurt you, Kurt. I won't. And they probably took us as hostages, so they need us. At least for now, so we have time to find a way out. Until then, I'll protect you." Although still afraid and unsure, Blaine felt such conviction in his last sentence. He _would not_ let Kurt Hummel down, not as long as he still drew breath.

Blaine pulled Kurt in closer, bother for the comfort and for warmth as he felt the bite of the cold air permeate his clothing. Before long, Blaine heard Kurt's breathing even out as he fell asleep. He tried to stay away for as long as he could, but eventually, exhaustion won over Blaine as well. They continued to hold onto each other as they slept, both unwilling to let the other go.

* * *

><p>Kurt started awake as he heard a lock being picked. He blinked rapidly, attempting to clear his vision as he watched their kidnappers enter the room. He felt Blaine stirring beside him and Kurt sat up straight. He rubbed at his neck, sore from sleeping against Blaine all night.<p>

"Good morning," Bill greeted, standing in front of them. "Did you miss us?"

"If I said no, would you let us go?" Kurt asked, his voice containing more courage than he felt.

Bill laughed. "Well, now I know who has the balls in your relationship."

Kurt felt Blaine put a hand on his shoulder to keep him quiet, but this guy was seriously pissing him off. "Why would you assume we're gay anyway?"

Bill kneeled in front of Kurt, and Kurt tried to put on his most intimidating face; he refused to show them the fear he showed yesterday.

"Well you see kid, I can read people," Bill started, looking between Blaine and Kurt. "Besides the fact that it's obvious. And to be perfectly honest, it added some incentive to bring you here."

Kurt bristled. "What are you talking about?"

Bill's smile widened, and Kurt used all of his self-restraint in order to keep himself from punching the man in the nose. "Well, of course we needed to take care of you two. You were witnesses after all. And with your…clothing choices, we figured we might be able to get another payday for you yuppies as well. However," he paused, shifting his vision to Blaine, "Dax here has a thing for your friend."

Kurt felt himself go cold. What did he mean, "a thing for your friend?" Bill couldn't have meant what Kurt thought he did. There must be a misunderstanding. But the blatant lust in Dax's eyes and the way he felt Blaine's hand tighten around his shoulder told Kurt that there was no misunderstanding.

"No." Kurt tried to demand, but his voice came out a strangled whisper. "No, no, no, you can't do this." _There you go, Kurt. Even louder now. _"I'm _not _going to let you touch him." His tone became dangerous as he found his voice, and he steeled his eyes on Dax, although the man gave no indication that he heard Kurt.

Kurt felt bile rise up in his throat. Blaine had been so adamant about protecting _him _last night, but he never thought something like this would happen. Blaine had done nothing but protect him in this, and Kurt would be damned if Dax got a hold of him.

Bill stood up again, this time pulling out a gun. "That's not you choice, kid. I mean, I don't support your…_ways_," he stressed, "but Dax gets what he wants. He's my right hand man, after all."

Kurt grabbed Blaine's arm. "I don't think you understand. You _do not_ touch him."

Kurt heard Bill's gun cock and felt a knot of fear growing in his stomach. "No, I don't think _you _understand." Bill's voice was cold and void of emotion. "You may be more valuable to me alive, but I'm not against teaching you a final lesson. You don't get a say in this."

"Kurt," Blaine called, and Kurt stared at him, eyes stinging with unshed tears. "Kurt, please, don't get yourself in trouble."

Blaine looked so calm, albeit worried, and it fueled Kurt's fury even more. "No, Blaine! Damn it, this can't happen!"

Blaine took Kurt's face between his hands and Kurt could feel a tiny tremor in Blaine's fingers. _Maybe he's not as calm as I think he is._ "Kurt, I promise you we'll get out of this, but I _need _you to cooperate."

Kurt reached up to Blaine's hand, his lip quivering as he tried to stay composed for Blaine. "Okay."

"Enough of this bullshit," Bill spat, turning to Dax. "If you want him, go get him."

Dax smiled, nudging Rich and advancing on Blaine. The two men grabbed Blaine, who struggled slightly, if only to stay with Kurt longer.

Kurt forced his eyes shut, palms pressing into his eyelids. He didn't know what to do. Blaine always seemed to certain, so sure, and now he would be alone. His anchor was gone, and worse, Blaine was in serious danger. Why did everyone he loved get hurt?

Kurt heard scuffling as Dax and Rich dragged Blaine away; he berated himself, knowing there was no way to save Blaine without getting himself shot. Kurt had promised Blaine that he would cooperate, but he wasn't sure if that was worth it anymore.

"Kurt. Look at me."

Kurt's eyes snapped open, blue eyes meeting hazel as he watched Blaine struggle against the two men holding him. Kurt couldn't believe how well Blaine could maintain his composure at a time like this.

Blaine's eyes were desperate, pleading. "It'll be all right, Kurt. I promise."

Kurt stood as he watched Blaine being dragged through the door. He wanted to run after him, to kick and scream and tear his way to Blaine's side, but the gun trained on his head kept him still.

The door slammed shut, a resounding echo reminding Kurt of the barrier between him and the one man he had ever truly loved.

Tears started trailing down his face, but Kurt wiped them away with a shaky hand. He would be okay. Blaine would be okay.

"Don't worry; they're just going to have some fun. Your friend won't die or anything. Yet."

Kurt heard Bill chuckle, and he looked up to see a grin spreading on his captor's face.

Kurt grit his teeth, and almost feral sounding growl escaping his throat. "I swear, if you hurt him you will pay."

Bill shook his head. "You're in no position to be making threats here. Besides, who said anything about hurting him? He might enjoy it."

Something inside of Kurt snapped then, and all he saw was red. He lashed out, running at Bill until a gunshot rang out.

Kurt froze, waiting to feel some sort of pain before realizing it was a warning shot. Turning, he saw the bullet hole in the wall behind him. _Get a grip on yourself, Hummel. Your death won't help Blaine. He needs you._

"Sit the fuck down before I blow your head off," Bill ordered, gun aimed between Kurt's eyes.

Kurt did as he was told, and the newly found silence seemed like torture. He had no way of knowing what was happening to Blaine, how long it had been since he had been taken…

Suddenly, a ragged scream tore out from another room, and Kurt went rigid; he could feel himself wanting to vomit once again as he heard Blaine scream. Kurt now wished the silence to return, anything rather than hear Blaine in such pain. The screams finally ended, but they seemed to echo in Kurt's ears.

_Blaine, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I can't help you_.

"Well," Bill started, snapping Kurt out of his reverie. "Looks like I may have been wrong." He smiled at the horrified expression on Kurt's face as he left the room. "They'll bring him back to you soon enough. Hopefully in one piece."

Once Bill had left, Kurt felt his heart racing, attempting to pound itself out of his ribcage. Never before had he felt so useless. At least when his dad had his heart attack, Kurt had helped afterwards by cooking and taking care of him. But this…Kurt felt that he may never be able to make this okay for Blaine.

Kurt now felt like an ass for making such a big deal over Karofsky's kiss. That was nothing compared to this. Blaine would be so –

_Stop it_, Kurt tried to calm himself, _Blaine is the strongest person you know. He will be all right. If he isn't…_

Kurt broke down completely then, sobbing into his knees that were drawn to his chest. He was alone and didn't have to be brave for anyone right now. Shivering against the cold and his own turmoil, Kurt wondered if there was any hope for them after all.

* * *

><p>Everything hurt.<p>

The last time Blaine remembered feeling even remotely like this was in eighth grade. He had been beaten up by some local bullies while he had the flu. The aches and nausea and disorientation were like toned-down, muted versions of what he felt now.

Blaine's eyes fluttered open, and his brows creased at the assault the dim light made on his pupils. He didn't dare move, not yet anyway. Blaine rather enjoyed the feeling of the cool, tiled floor against his flushed cheek. In fact, he couldn't quite understand why he felt his body trembling – he couldn't be shivering if he felt so warm, right?

That's when Blaine noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt. Why wasn't he wearing a shirt? It wasn't summer yet…at least he didn't think it was. Although that _would _explain the heat. Blaine began to wonder why he didn't know much about his present condition.

God, he ached. Tentatively, Blaine rolled onto his back, trying to ignore the newly found searing pain in his backside. _That doesn't make sense_, he thought, gritting his teeth. Blaine tried to collect his thoughts and took in his surroundings.

A bathroom. Weird.

Then suddenly, everything came flashing back. He had been dragged away from Kurt. Kurt, who looked so lost, so _scared_. Why was he scared? Blaine would give anything to take that fear away from Kurt.

Blaine closed his eyes, feeling the panic beginning to build as the memories flooded back. He was dragged into a bathroom – _this _bathroom – by two men. One left, but one stayed. Dax.

Blaine remembered the groping; big, calloused, rough hands ran along his body. The crash of foreign lips against his own with bruising force. The tearing of his shirt and the scratch of fingernails along his hipbones. And then…

Oh God.

Blaine lurched forward just in time to empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He continued dry heaving for several minutes afterward, then laid his head against the side of the nearby sink, energy spent.

_Please let this be a nightmare. Some sort of sick, twisted nightmare. Maybe I'm drunk. I'm imagining it all. Please._ But Blaine looked down and saw the red scratch marks trailing down to and underneath his boxers. He saw the small trail of blood running down his left leg, he felt the aches of his battered body, and he _knew _this was real.

Blaine tried to slow his breathing and calm himself down, but his shock and continued shivering prevented that from happening.

_Get a hold of yourself, Anderson_, he chided. _You can deal with this. You ran from your problems before, but you can deal with this. Right after you get Kurt. He's _alone _right now, and you need to get him out of here. Because you were fucking _kidnapped_, remember? You need to keep yourself and Kurt alive before you have a meltdown_.

Blaine felt a few hot tears slip before pushing them back. Shakily, he got to his feet, using the porcelain sink as a crutch.

He finally recognized the heat and the shudders wracking his body as a fever. The light-headedness made his staying upright more cumbersome than it should have been, and his vision was slightly blurred. Despite this, he spotted the tattered remains of his shirt on the floor – that was out – but he could at least put his jeans back on.

Gingerly, he slipped them on, trying not to contort his body into positions it couldn't handle. Blaine braced himself against the pounding in his head and the exhaustion creeping back, reminding himself that Kurt needed him. He wouldn't run away. Not again. Not when his boyfriend needed him most.

Stumbling toward the door, Blaine heard muffled shouts and the sound of a door being kicked open. He wasn't sure if it was his fever making him hallucinate, but soon he heard more shouting, and a crash, and a gunshot. Blaine felt his heart drop to his feet.

_Kurt._

Blaine moved to the door with a renewed vigor, only to find it locked from the outside. He let out a string of curses and pounded on the door.

"Let me out! For God's sake, let me out! If you've hurt him, I swear…" Blaine's rough voice cracked, the fear of Kurt being hurt taking over every other emotion he had.

There was more muffled arguing, and then Blaine heard Kurt's voice above the others. "You don't understand, he's here! He's somewhere in this house, I have to find him, please!"

"Kurt," Blaine breathed, placing his palm against the wooden doorframe. "Kurt, I'm here!" _He must have gotten away from them…but why is he talking to himself?_

"It's my boyfriend, they took him and he's probably hurt! For fuck's sake, just let me find him!"

He had never heard Kurt so angry before, but the underlying fear in his voice did not go unnoticed by Blaine. "Kurt, I'm over here! In the bathroom, it's locked!" For the first time, Blaine noticed how raspy his voice actually sounded, and using it to such a degree made his throat raw.

"Blaine?" He could hear the relief in Kurt's voice.

"Yes, Kurt, I'm here! I'm stuck in the bathroom, Kurt!" Blaine could hear footsteps now growing closer and a new voice calling to Kurt. Were they calling him Mr. Hummel? That didn't sound right.

The bathroom door flew open, and Blaine slumped forward, having been leaning against it for support. Kurt caught him, and Blaine was now very grateful that Kurt had a slight height advantage.

Kurt enveloped him into his arms, holding onto Blaine as if his life depended on it. "Blaine, oh Blaine, you're shaking." Kurt lowered him to the ground, and Blaine shook his head, attempting to focus as the adrenaline wore off.

"Kurt…I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" He needed to hear Kurt was unharmed more than he needed to breathe at this point.

Kurt's eyes softened and he nodded rapidly, pulling Blaine even closer to him. "Yes, Blaine, yes, I'm fine…we're getting out of here, Blaine. The police came, they're here. You're safe now."

"Police…" Blaine craned his neck and indeed, several officers stood behind them. More were escorting Rich, Dax and a wounded Bill out of the building.

Kurt pressed Blaine's hand to his lips. "Yes, Blaine, we're safe. It's going to be okay."

Blaine let his muscles relax, leaning into Kurt's sweater. He inhaled deeply, letting the scent of Kurt comfort him as darkness overtook him again.

It was over.

* * *

><p>Kurt sat by the hospital bed, holding Blaine's hand as he slept. Kurt listened to the monotonous beeping, the constant reminder that Blaine was alive. The sleeping boy looked much too pale for Kurt's liking, but at least he looked peaceful when he was asleep.<p>

Kurt sighed wearily, bowing his head but never letting go of Blaine's hand. They had been in the hospital for two days now. For the first they had both slept through most of the day; for the second, Kurt refused to stay in bed and sat by Blaine's side.

Mr. and Mrs. Anderson were there as well, but Burt and Carole had recently taken them down to the cafeteria. Kurt had refused to go.

The doctor had told them that Blaine's excessive sleeping was due to a slight concussion, fever and of course exhaustion. He had insisted Blaine would make a full recovery, and there was no need to worry, but he didn't know. The doctor told them about the rape kit like he was talking about his morning coffee order. He didn't know what this would do to Blaine.

Kurt knew that Blaine was strong, but he also knew that Blaine had some personal issues deeper than he let on. Kurt hadn't spoken with Blaine much about it, but he could see. The way Blaine talked about leaving his old school, or his father's motives for rebuilding that old car. The way Blaine shied away from delving too deeply into his past….Kurt knew Blaine was brave and resilient, but he had unresolved self-loathing as well, and it physically pained Kurt to think this trauma would add to that. Because if it were up to Kurt, Blaine would see himself as he truly was: perfect in every way.

"I love you," Kurt whispered, tenderly stroking Blaine's forehead with his thumb. "You've always been my hope, Blaine. My rock. Well, now I'm going to be yours."

"My…rock." Kurt scrambled closer at the sound of Blaine's voice and felt Blaine squeeze his hand in return. "You've always been my rock, Kurt."

Blaine's voice was rough and low, but Kurt had never heard anything more beautiful in his life. "Are you feeling all right? Do I need to call the doctor?"

"Shh, I'm all right." Blaine smiled softly, focusing his eyes on Kurt. The simple action put Kurt at ease, and he returned the smile.

"Blaine." Kurt couldn't think of anything to say; he just wanted to sit with Blaine forever.

Several minutes passed, and Kurt noticed Blaine's features begin to darken. "Kurt, I…I remember."

His voice was so heavy and laced with pain. Kurt shook his head. "You don't have to talk about it right now, Blaine. It's okay."

"Kurt, they….I remember, I couldn't stay with you, and he…oh Kurt."

Kurt would never forget the first time he saw Blaine Anderson cry. The room was silent save for the heart monitor, and Blaine drew in a ragged breath, unable to stop the flow of tears from cascading down. The sound completely sliced through Kurt's heart.

Kurt threw all hospital etiquette out of the window and sat on Blaine's bed, pulling him into his arms.

Blaine buried his face in the crook of Kurt's neck. "I'm so sorry, Kurt. I had never even been with you, and now…he took that from me, Kurt. I can still feel his hands…God, Kurt, his hands."

Kurt felt his own tears fall, but he ignored them. All of his attention was on the trembling form in front of him. Blaine looks so small and vulnerable; Kurt had to protect him, keep him safe from the world.

"Blaine." Kurt's voice was authoritative and sure. "You need to listen to me. If you ever believe one thing I saw, believe this: this is _not _your fault."

"But –"

"No!" Kurt felt Blaine tense in his arms, and he tried to take the edge out of his voice. "No, Blaine, I mean it. You couldn't control it, Blaine, and you're still alive – _we _are still alive – because of _you_. You were the one who kept calm, Blaine. You knew how to keep us alive, and you kept me _safe_." _I wish I could have kept you safe too_. "You did nothing wrong. You were my hero, Blaine. And now it's time for me to be yours."

Kurt continued to rub small, soothing circles on Blaine's back as Blaine's breathing evened out.

"Kurt," Blaine hiccuped, "Do you still love me? Even after…"

Kurt blanched. "Blaine Anderson, I love you more now than I ever have before, and I didn't even think that was possible. You are everything to me, Blaine. If I were to have lost you in this…I wouldn't know what to do." He pulled away slightly and lifted Blaine's chin, looking him in the eye. "_I love you_, Blaine. So very much."

The fear that clouded Blaine's eyes seemed to regress with Kurt's words, although Kurt still saw the haunted look behind them.

Blaine threw his arms around Kurt's neck, and Kurt tightened the hug, running his fingers through Blaine's dark curls.

"I love you too, Kurt," Blaine choked. They sat like that for what seemed to be hours, until Blaine started to drift back to sleep in Blaine's arms. "Kurt," he breathed, eyes heavy. "Please stay with me."

Kurt felt a surge of protectiveness wash through him, and he kissed the top of Blaine's head. "Always."


End file.
